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Mary Shelley

A Dark and Stormy Night

Mary Shelley (then Godwin) and Percy Bysshe Shelley were visiting their friend Lord Byron in Geneva one rainy summer. With the weather against them, they decided to spend their time writing ghost stories for each other. Frankenstein is Mary Shelley’s submission to their contest, later published anonymously in 1818.
Victor Frankenstein, a strange but brilliant scientist, discovers a method of imparting life to inanimate matter. The Monster is thus born: a hideous, 8-foot-tall creature of muscle, speed, and intellect. Frankenstein’s rejection of his appalling creation sends it into a spiral of despair, and Frankenstein’s life is never the same.
289 printed pages

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Impressions

    Esteban Paredesshared an impression5 years ago
    👍Worth reading

    O el moderno Prometeo, es interesante el modo en que este supuesto Dios se aleja de su creación por miedo

    Themba Moyakeshared an impression7 years ago
    💀Spooky

    The birth of the gothic narrative was arguably bolstered by Shelley's 'Frankenstein'. Simply philosophically engaging when one considers how at its core is the question of whether the evil that's prevalent in the world was manufactured by inhumanity.

    We read it for the Southern African English Olympiad this year (2016) where we explored the leitmotif: The Darkness in Man's Heart.

    Simply fulfilling!

    p.s: I especial love the archaic diction - palatable.

    Nat Catshared an impression3 years ago
    🔮Hidden Depths
    💡Learnt A Lot
    🎯Worthwhile
    💞Loved Up

    One of the best books ever written.

Quotes

    Ruslanhas quoted6 years ago
    serpent to sting you,
    exitlistshas quoted5 months ago
    the whole train of my pro­gress to­wards the cre­ation; the ap­pear­ance of the work of my own hands alive at my bed­side; its de­par­ture.
    syafiqahwithaQhas quoted4 years ago
    The la­bours I en­dured were no longer to be al­le­vi­ated by the bright sun or gentle breezes of spring; all joy was but a mock­ery, which in­sul­ted my des­ol­ate state, and made me feel more pain­fully that I was not made for the en­joy­ment of pleas­ure.

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